Brown of Moukden: A Story of the Russo-Japanese War Read online

  *CHAPTER VII*

  *A Daughter of Poland*

  Suppressio Veri--The Keys--At Fault--A Polish Patriot--A Daughter'sLove--A Common Sorrow--A French Mission--A Council of War--FromCanton--A Surprise Visit--Hide and Seek--Ladislas Streleszki

  All was silent for nearly an hour. Slowly the minutes passed. Jackfelt he had never been so wretchedly uncomfortable. His legs ached; hisarm throbbed with pain; there was not room in his hiding-place to sit;the stuffiness of his prison and the attentions of innumerable insectsso tortured him that he could hardly refrain from crying out to bereleased. Eagerly he listened for the return of the tall strong girlwhose quick wit had thrown the Buriats off his track. When would shecome again? At last, after a period of waiting that seemed ten times aslong as it really was, he fancied he heard her footsteps. He listened;yes, it was certainly someone approaching; his long imprisonment wasended. But just as the footsteps, now distinctly audible, neared thetree, his ears caught the heavy thud of horses galloping, and a fewmoments afterwards an angry voice saying in French:

  "The man you saw, Mademoiselle, is not the man we are searching for. Mysergeant, who is following him up, sends me word that he got a clearview of him as he breasted the hill. The dress is different, the horseis different----"

  He broke off as if expecting an explanation.

  "How unfortunate, Monsieur!" exclaimed Gabriele in a tone of concern."I fear you must have come a long distance out of your way."

  "That is as it may be, Mademoiselle," replied the lieutenant, somewhatnettled. "Perhaps not so far either, for we tracked our man to within afew hundred yards of your house." He paused a moment, then addedsuspiciously: "What was he like, the man you saw galloping?"

  "What was he like?" she repeated reflectively. "I think he was aboutyour height; but then you are mounted, and so was he, and it is sodifficult to judge when a man is mounted, is it not, Monsieur? And thenhe was going so fast; in a flash he was by; there was his backdisappearing into the copse. It was a broad back; yes, certainly abroad back; and he was hitting his pony; yes, I remember that clearly,poor thing! and it was going so fast, too."

  All this was said with the most artless simplicity, and Jack was amused,though his heart was beating hard with apprehension.

  "But, Mademoiselle, what was he like?" repeated the officer, findingsome difficulty in repressing his anger.

  "The man I saw, Monsieur, or the man you saw, or the man your sergeantsaw? There are so many--they confuse me."

  "The man you saw. Come, Mademoiselle, we are wasting time. Was he awhite man, or a Chinaman, or what?"

  "Oh, his colour! Really, I cannot say. You see, Monsieur, the sun wasin my eyes. I saw his back plainly, a broad back; but he was ridingfast, and hitting his pony; yes, poor thing! he was hitting it veryhard."

  The lieutenant hesitated; Jack held his breath.

  "You will pardon me, Mademoiselle, if I ask you to let me search yourhouse."

  "Not my house, Monsieur. It belongs to Father Mayenobe."

  "Peste!" he exclaimed as he dismounted. "This house, whosesoever it is.The man gave us the slip in this neighbourhood, and my orders are tocapture him."

  "Certainly search, Monsieur. Father Mayenobe is away from home, or I amsure he would receive you as the occasion demands. The house is open toyou. Perhaps a few of you would enter at a time?"

  The frowning officer glanced at her, unable to decide whether she wasmocking him. But her face was perfectly grave.

  "Certainly, Mademoiselle," he replied a little uneasily. "Two will besufficient; and with your permission I will accompany them. Doubtless,"he added, as by an afterthought, "it will prove a mere form."

  "I suppose it is quite right, Monsieur. I know nothing about thesethings. Perhaps I ought to say no until Father Mayenobe returns. Butthen I couldn't prevent you, could I? So you had better go in and doyour duty. Let me see, you will want the keys." She took a bunch fromher pocket. "There are very few. This is the key of the larder."

  She innocently handed him the bunch, indicating the one she hadmentioned.

  "Only the larder is locked," she added. "The natives, you are aware,Monsieur, will overeat if one is not careful."

  The young officer, looking very much ashamed of himself, took the bunch,and having no answer ready, moved towards the house.

  "Will you show us the house, Mademoiselle?"

  "Oh no, Monsieur! that would be to countenance your intrusion. I cannotbe expected to do that."

  The conversation had been carried on throughout within a few feet ofJack. In spite of his wound, his uncomfortable position, and the dangerof discovery, he found himself shaking with silent laughter, imaginingthe play of expression on the faces of Gabriele and her victim.

  The lieutenant with two of his men went into the house. There wassilence for a while, broken only by the champing of the Buriats' poniesand the rattle of accoutrements, the men sitting their steeds mute andmotionless. Then the voice of the officer could be heard interrogatingthe old nurse, who merely shook her head to every question. She knewnothing but Polish, and the officer's Russian was as incomprehensible toher as his French. After a few minutes he returned.

  "Accept my apologies and my thanks, Mademoiselle," he said, as he handedher the keys. "We must pursue our chase elsewhere. Bonjour!"

  "Bonjour, Monsieur!"

  The troop rode away, taking a different course. Gabriele's lips curvedin a smile as she watched them. The officer glanced back just beforeriding out of sight. She was walking slowly towards the house.

  Half an hour afterwards the missionary returned.

  "Father," said Gabriele, "I have played the good Samaritan since youhave been away."

  She explained to him rapidly what had occurred.

  "My daughter," he said gently, "I cannot blame you, but you actedrashly, very rashly indeed."

  "What would you have done, Father?" she asked archly.

  "Just what you did, my dear," he replied with twinkling eyes. "But wemust be careful. The Russians look askance at our missions as it is;they only want a pretext to expel us."

  "And the poor young man is all the time in the tree! He must be nearlydead with fatigue."

  "But we cannot release him yet. Some of the Russians may return thisway from their chase of Min-chin. I hope they will not shoot the poorfellow by mistake."

  Jack waited, feeling more and more exhausted, and wondering how long hisirksome durance was to last. By and by he again heard horses galloping.The Buriat sergeant and one of his men had returned from their fruitlesschase. Min-chin, the Korean servant, had outridden them, and they hadlost trace of him. They pulled up at the missionary's house to ask thewhereabouts of the remainder of the troop, then they rode on. Watchingthem out of sight, and waiting for some time to assure himself thatdanger was past, Father Mayenobe carried the ladder to the tree, andsoon Jack, pale, worn, and hungry, lay in the priest's own bed. Thefather, like most of the French missionaries in China, knew something ofmedicine and surgery; he examined Jack's wound, dressed and bound up hisarm, and said that he was not to think of getting up for several days.It was in fact nearly a week before he was allowed to leave the bed, andthe missionary saw that watch was kept night and day to guard against asurprise visit from the Russians.

  During this period of enforced seclusion Father Mayenobe learnt Jack'sstory. Though it made him feel more than ever the gravity of hisposition if his guest should be discovered, it did not abate by a jothis determination to do what he could for him. Indeed, his sympathy forJack was enhanced by a certain similarity between his circumstances andGabriele's. He told Jack her story. Her father was a large land-owner,the descendant of a great Polish family, a man of noble character,greatly beloved of his tenants and respected by his peers. Like everytrue Pole he was a strong patriot, and had been a member of one of thesecret associations that have for their object the restoration of Polishliberties. Some six
years before, the society had been betrayed by oneof its members; Count Walewski, with several of his compatriots, wasarrested and sent without trial into exile; and as a deterrent to otherPoles who might contemplate revolt, the place selected for hispunishment was the bleak barren island of Sakhalin, the farthest easternlimit of the Russian empire. There was special cruelty and indignityinvolved in this choice, for the island was reserved as a rule formurderers and the lowest class of criminals; and his friends in Polandwere aghast when they heard to what a living death he had beencondemned.

  At the time of the count's arrest and banishment, his daughter Gabrielewas only eleven years of age. Her father's estates being confiscated,and she a motherless child, she was adopted by her paternal aunt, anunmarried lady of ample means, who took her to her home in Paris,educated her, and treated her with a mother's care. But as the girlgrew older and learned to understand more fully the hopelessness of herfather's fate, she resolved at all costs to share his exile, and to dowhat lay in her power to alleviate and sweeten his terrible lot. Heraunt, fearful of allowing a young girl to undertake a mission soterrible, and being too infirm to accompany her, did all that she couldto turn her from her purpose. But with increasing years the girl'sdetermination became ever stronger. She grew up quickly into athoughtful strong-willed maiden, full of patriotic ardour, of passionateresentment against the Russian government, and of an overflowing lovefor the father whose affection she remembered so well, and whose noblequalities she had not been too young to appreciate. While grateful forall the kindness her aunt had showered upon her, she was possessed by anovermastering sense of duty to her father. At last, when she was nearlyseventeen, but in looks and mind older than her years, she threatened toset forth without assistance if her aunt refused her assent and help.Having no alternative the poor lady yielded, only stipulating thatGabriele's old nurse should accompany her. For some months they vainlytried to get permission from St. Petersburg for the girl to join herfather. In the case of ordinary criminals no difficulty was usuallymade; it was clear that, as happens so often in Russia, the politicaloffence was to be visited more heavily than the worst of crimes. Thenshe started without permission, hoping to obtain the necessaryauthorization at Vladivostok. She was provided with letters ofintroduction to a Polish family in Siberia, and one to Father Mayenobe,whose sister had been a teacher at the pension Gabriele had attended inParis. But the outbreak of the war had so much disorganized things thatthe Polish friends were not to be found. She arrived in Vladivostok;there her request for permission to go to Sakhalin had been referred byone official to another, shelved, and finally ignored. Then, friendlessand despairing, she had written to the missionary asking his advice. Hehad already heard of her from his sister. Riding at once intoVladivostok he endeavoured to get the required permission; but thegovernor and officials had something more important to consider than theromantic impulses of a Polish school-girl, and they politely shunted allhis representations. At his suggestion Gabriele and her nurse hadreturned with him to his little mission station in the hills, where theyhad since remained, hoping that in course of time they would gain theirobject.

  When Jack was well enough to leave his bedroom and share the simple lifeof the missionary and his household, it was apparent that the two youngpeople were drawn together by the common circumstances of their fate.From the first moment Jack had felt a strong admiration for the girlwhose resourcefulness had saved him from capture; while Gabrieleregarded his position as even worse than her own, for she knew at anyrate where her father was. They had many long conversations together;the girl put her own sorrows into the background, and entered heartilyinto Jack's perplexities and plans. Father Mayenobe often joined themin talking things over, and soon won Jack's admiration for hischaracter, and respect for his wise counsel.

  Jack had opportunities of seeing something and learning more of his newfriend's mission work. Jean Mayenobe had been a favourite pupil ofMonsieur Venault, the young nobleman who gave up his career as acourtier of Louis XVIII, and devoted his whole fortune and forty-twoyears of his life to his labour of love in Manchuria. A great part of aFrench missionary's work consists in relieving the poor and sick andcaring for orphans. He does little actual preaching of the Gospel; heconducts service in a small church or oratory attached to his house, butconverts are made chiefly through the agency of native Christians, andthrough the training of orphan children from tender years. The priestdresses and fares little better than the poorest of his flock, and isnever absent from his charge, fulfilling with absolute literalness theDivine command.

  One day a Korean youth in training for the priesthood came in with amessage from the Sister in charge of the orphanage at Almazovsk. Heremained for several days in the house. Observing his manly opencountenance and his air of energy and enthusiasm, so much in contrast tothe average Korean's flabby effeminacy, Jack understood what aninfluence for good the Christian missionary can wield.

  The talk in the little mission-house turned again and again upon themystery of Mr. Brown's fate.

  Father Mayenobe confessed that he was unable to make a likely guess asto the merchant's whereabouts.

  "There are so many places in Siberia to which he may have been sent.Sakhalin, you suggest? Sakhalin is little used now for politicalprisoners, although, as in Count Walewski's case, some few are stillsent there."

  "How am I to find out? It is the uncertainty that is so terrible."

  "I can think of no safe means. If the Russians are determined to keephis whereabouts secret----"

  "That is itself an admission that they are in the wrong," interruptedGabriele.

  "It may be. I was going to say that if that is their determination itwill be very difficult to trace him, and the only likely course would beto follow up enquiries along the railway."

  "That is almost hopeless in present circumstances. The war hasdisorganized everything. Besides, how am I to get into Moukden again?"

  "Why attempt it? Why not try to gain the coast and make for home, andtrust to diplomatic representations at St. Petersburg?"

  "No, no, father, I certainly disagree with you," cried Gabriele. "Youknow how slowly diplomacy works. Think of it; Monsieur Brown may passmonths, perhaps years, in the most terrible uncertainty and suspense.No; if I were in his place I would do as he means to do. Oh, I wish Iwere a man!"

  "But think of the danger! If he were to go as a European, he would beset upon by Chinese in the out-of-the-way parts through which he mustpass. In the towns the English and the French are respected when otherEuropeans are not, but in the country parts all alike are foreigndevils, of less account than pigs. If he got safely within the Russianlines he would probably be arrested as a spy and shot. His only chanceis to go as a Chinaman."

  "As a Chinaman?"

  "Yes, disguised to the best of our ability."

  Gabriele looked dubiously at Jack, as though questioning whether anydisguise would serve.

  "What do you say yourself, Monsieur Brown?" asked the missionary.

  "I must risk it, father. I have been long enough in China to know thedifficulties and dangers in my way; I don't underrate them, I assureyou. But anything is better than this harrowing uncertainty. I couldnot remain idle; I feel I must do something to clear up the mystery,even though I should be venturing on a forlorn hope."

  "Well, my son, I will not dissuade you. Fortune favours the brave, theysay. You are determined to go; God go with you! But we must think ofhow it is to be done."

  "I must go as a Chinaman, that is certain. It had better be as asouthern Chinaman. Mademoiselle perhaps does not know that the spokenlanguage of the north and south are so unlike that natives of the onecan only communicate with the other by written characters or by pidginEnglish. I can't write Chinese, and if I pretend to be quite illiterate(as indeed I am from the Chinese point of view) I may hope to passmuster. I can speak pidgin English. We had a Canton servant inShanghai with whom I spoke nothing else, and we use it still with theservants in M
oukden."

  "But there is a greater difficulty--the difficulty of feature. You wouldpass better in Canton as a Manchu, than as a Cantonese in Manchuria."

  "I can only risk it. A little saffron and henna----"

  "And a pigtail, Monsieur Brown?--will you have to wear a pigtail?" saidGabriele.

  "Yes, unluckily," said Jack with a rueful smile. "My own hair won'tsuffice. But false pigtails are common enough in China. I shall askyour help with that, Mademoiselle."

  "It would amuse me--if it were not so terribly serious."

  "You will go as a Chinaman, then," said the priest. "But you must have astory to tell on the way if you are questioned: have you thought ofthat?"

  "Yes. Suppose I give out that I am the servant of a Moukden mandarin,returning from a special mission to Hun-chun, hinting perhaps atanti-Russian intrigue?"

  Father Mayenobe stroked his beard.

  "It is inevitable," he said. "For you this is a state of war, and inwar the first principle is to deceive the enemy. Still, I do not likeyour venture. The more I think of it, the more heavy do the odds appearagainst success."

  "Father, do not let us go into that again," pleaded Gabriele. "Can yousuggest any better plan for Monsieur Brown?"

  "I confess I cannot. Well, let it be so, then. I will do all in mypower to help you, my son."

  A fortnight passed away. The wet season had begun, and though therainfall was not so continuous as is commonly the case, the streams wereswelled to overflowing and the rough tracks rendered impassable. Themission station, being on a hillside, suffered less than huts on thelower ground. During the unfavourable weather much anxious care wasgiven to Jack's preparations. The costume was got ready in everydetail; Gabriele with her own hands plaited the pigtail and wadded theloose tunic and pantaloons. At last all was in readiness, and Jack onlyawaited a fine day to set off.

  One afternoon, when the sun was hot, raising a thick vapour from thesodden fields, Min-chin came running into the house with the news that aparty of Buriats were riding up the hill. It happened that FatherMayenobe had taken advantage of the change of weather to visit some ofhis little flock a few miles off. Without a moment's delay Jackhastened to the hollow tree, and was safe inside by the time thehorsemen rode up. They surrounded the house, and the officer, an olderman than the lieutenant whom Gabriele had discomfited, alighted at thedoor and called for the priest. Gabriele appeared. It was evident fromthe officer's manner that he had heard of her.

  "Mademoiselle," he said in French, "you will please give me a plainanswer. A stranger has been seen in and about this house. Who is he?"

  "Oh! you mean the catechumen from Almazovsk?"

  The captain looked hard at her.

  "Come, Mademoiselle, where is the man?"

  "The catechumen? He is gone. He went three days ago, all through therain. He would not remain, though Father Mayenobe pressed him to waitin hope of finer weather. You seem to doubt me," added the girl. "Thehouse has been already searched once, in Father Mayenobe's absence; Iassure you there is nobody in it but our servants; if you will notaccept my assurance you had better search again."

  She moved away, and began to occupy herself with simple householdmatters, completely ignoring the Russians. The captain did not goshamefacedly about his work as the lieutenant had done; he searched thelittle house thoroughly, ransacking every hole and corner. The task didnot take him long; he found nothing. Coming out again, he beckoned to aman in civilian costume whom Gabriele had not previously noticed. As herode forward, she started; but in an instant recovered herself. Hespoke a few words to the captain; then the latter, with a curt word offarewell to the girl, gave his men the order to ride away. Gabriele didnot like his look; he had seemed too easily satisfied, and consultedwith the civilian; and she sent two of the servants to keep watch at theonly convenient approaches to the settlement. Her precaution wasjustified. Two or three hours later the party rode back at a gallop.The alarm was given by one of the sentinels, and Jack had time to getback into the serviceable beech before they arrived. A second searchwas made, this also fruitless; then the horsemen finally departed,convinced against their will that they had come once more on a falsescent.

  When Jack left his hiding-place he saw by the expression of Gabriele'sface that she had something to tell him. A red spot burned on eachcheek, and her eyes were blazing.

  "How dare he! How dare he!" she exclaimed. "Oh, if I could have killedhim! It was Ladislas Streleszki, the traitor, the villain, the man whobetrayed my father. He was our steward; we did not know for a long timewho had done that foul deed; but when my father was arrested Streleszkidisappeared, and it was many months before we understood."

  "Do you mean, Mademoiselle, that he is now a Russian officer?"

  "No, no; but when they came the second time he was with them."

  "Did he not recognize you?"

  "No; it is six years since he saw me, and I have changed very much. Iwas afraid he might; I thought perhaps a chance word from one of theofficers in Vladivostok through whom my applications have passed, hadbrought him here to persecute me. But it cannot be so; he hardly lookedat me. I knew him at once; he has altered little; his hair is turninggrey; but I could never mistake him; one eyelid droops and----"

  "Indeed!" cried Jack with a start. "Is it his left eyelid?"

  "Yes. Oh, why do you ask?"

  "Sowinski, my father's enemy, has the same defect. Did you hear himspeak, Mademoiselle?"

  "Yes; his voice is gruff and coarse."

  "Then Streleszki and Sowinski are the same man. Good heavens, we haveindeed had a narrow escape! It would have been all up with me if I hadbeen found, and I fear your fate would have been sealed too. I am toblame for staying here so long. I must not bring you into danger again.I will go to-day."